


The Substitute Professor

by ThisNothingInTheMiddle



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Gen, no real plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-12-11 02:01:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11704488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThisNothingInTheMiddle/pseuds/ThisNothingInTheMiddle
Summary: Bill knew that her tutor had a wife, but not much more than that. She honestly had no idea what she’d expect her to be like. Until one warm lazy day, she’s Bill’s substitute tutor.





	The Substitute Professor

**Author's Note:**

> This is a birthday gift to one of my best ever friends, and dedicated River-lover! Happy birthday boo! Also, credit goes to her because most of the ideas behind this came from long 'what-if' conversations with her.

Bill sat toying with one of the sonic screwdrivers from the Doctor’s desk.

It was a warm, lazy day. In one corner sat the Tardis, bright paintwork basking in the windowlight. In the opposite corner sat Nardole, fiddling with a laptop. And in the big padded chair behind the desk, the Doctor was conspicuously absent.

“And he was worried about _me_ being late,” Bill said under her breath.

Nardole quietly grumbled a “Tell me about it,” and Bill could swear that the Tardis made a similar noise.

He had probably forgotten that he’d asked Bill to come in early, and was still giving a lecture on spoons or something. Or maybe he was telling a story to Missy in the vault. He could even be somewhere in the Tardis, for all Bill knew. Not that she really minded waiting. It was delightfully warm in the office, and all her friends were off in classes for the rest of the day.

Nardole suddenly raised one hand into the sky. “Go long,” he said.

Bill stared at him as he kept typing one-handed. “Wha’?”

“Go long. I thought that was Earth slang for ‘chuck it here.’”

“It isn’t. Not here.”

“What do you say, then?”

“We say ‘chuck it here.’”

Nardole looked back to his laptop and grumbled again, something about humans. “Chuck it here, then.”

Bill tossed him the screwdriver and he caught it without looking. Show off. It whirred as he started zapping the laptop. Bill was like 75% sure she’d regret it if she asked him what he was doing.

She almost picked up another one of the screwdrivers from the desk, when her gaze was caught by something else.

“Nardole,” she said.

“Yeah?” he said in his half-interested way.

“The Doctor told me once that he was married.”

“He was, yeah. Never saw the appeal myself.”

“Is this her? His wife?”

She held up one of the photographs on the desk, the one of a woman with so much curly hair that it filled the whole frame.

Nardole stopped typing and smiled. “Yeah, that’s her. Professor River Song.”

“’River Song’? Wild name.”

“Mm,” Nardole smiled. “Wild woman.”

“What happened to her?”

“Well, she died.”

Bill’s face fell. “I’m sorry. That’s so sad.” Nardole nodded, and looked out of the window, lost in thought. Bill was captivated by the photograph, and River Song’s smile. “She was beautiful.”

“She still is.” Nardole said.

“Yeah,” said Bill. “He must miss her a lot.”

“I don’t think so,” Nardole said, “he’s talking to her.”

Bill nodded. “That must help.”

“It does.”

They stood in silence for a second.

“I think we’ve been talking at cross meanings here,” Nardole said. “Let me make it perfectly clear that I’m looking at the Doctor and River talking right now, through this window.”

Bill jumped up and dashed to Nardole’s side, from where she could see the Doctor and the woman from the photograph walking arm in arm. The woman- Professor River Song- said something and the Doctor threw back his head laughing. After a moment River Song joined in. Bill had barely ever seen her tutor so unreservedly happy.

“Aaaaw!” Bill said, and then punched Nardole in the arm.

“Ow!”

“You said she was dead, you dick!”

“She did die!” He rubbed his arm. “But then her consciousness was downloaded into a supercomputer. She pops out every so often to visit. That was implied!”

“Pops out? After death?!”

“Yeah, flesh constructs, androids, you know. Humans have already invented USBs, it’s not that much more complicated. DON’T hit me again!”

Bill took pity, lowering her fist with a glare. “Think before you say stuff, yeah? So she’s NOT dead. Right now, at this moment.”

“Well, no.”

“You utter dingus. Hey, where’d they go?”

Nardole and Bill stared through the window.

“I think they went behind that flock of students,” said Nardole.

“I don’t think so,” said Bill.

“Who are we looking for?” said the Doctor.

Bill and Nardole jumped, and turned to find the Doctor and Professor River Song behind them, arms still locked.

“Sorry I’m late,” The Doctor said, “My lecture was interrupted.” He pointed unsubtly to his wife with his free hand and made an awkward face, making Bill laugh.

River Song smiled (she never seemed to stop.) “Professor River Song. You must be Bill Potts.”

“Hah, just Bill is fine,” Bill shook an outstretched hand, suddenly flustered. Something about being the full focus of that smile.

“It’s lovely to meet you Bill.”

“Yeah, thanks. You too!”

River turned back to the Doctor. “I’m sorry for interrupting your lecture, I just wanted to visit an old, dear friend.” The Doctor smiled too, and they gazed into each other’s eyes for a second before she continued, “but on the way to see Nardole I saw you.”

“Oh har har.”

“And it _is_ lovely to see you too, Nardole.”

“You too, ma’am.”

“Yes yes,” the Doctor said, “it’s wonderful to see each other. Bill, you have your essay?” Bill pointed to the pile of stapled paper on the Doctor’s desk. “Good. Now, today’s tutorial is on anthropology and look! I even brought in an expert.”

River laughed. “You mean I just happened to visit on the right day.”

“If you like.”

“So is Professor Song-” Bill started.

“Oh please, call me River!”

Bill laughed. “So is _River_ going to be tutoring me today?”

“Not in this dusty old office she isn’t!” River said. The Doctor looked like he was about to suggest something, and Nardole looked like he was about to take umbrage at the office being ‘dusty’, but before either could speak, River grabbed Bill’s hand and said “Field trip!”

 

* * *

 

River was like all of the best substitute teachers rolled into one.

She led Bill around the campus, pointing out common student behaviour and architecture and places like shops that were “indicators of the university’s existence as a microcosm of society”. She went off on tangents that (unlike the Doctor’s tangents) always managed to feed back into whatever point she was trying to make, and she told stories that (very much like the Doctor’s stories) made Bill wonder if she didn’t make half of it up.

Nardole and the Doctor had followed them for a bit, before they were distracted by a local tea house that apparently neither had ever noticed before.

“It’s been here since I started working,” Bill said in disbelief.

“I’ve learnt not to question their thought patterns,” River advised, “it saves a lot of headaches.”

Bill had immediately liked River. She was easy to get along with, and easy to trust. It didn’t hurt that in one of her stories, River mentioned “my wife”, and in response Bill made sure to casually point out somewhere she’d visited “with the last girl I dated”.

They were standing under a clock tower, and River was saying something about the perception of time, The Doctor and Nardole caught up with them (each performing their uniquely silly runs).

“River,” the Doctor said, “I’ve got another lecture in a few minutes. I was wondering if you wanted to take it.”

Bill hadn’t realised that their ‘field trip’ had taken up so much time, and she did a double take at the clock above them.

River gave a gasp. “You, giving up the opportunity for a good monologue? You’ve mellowed in your old age. Alright, why not. It’s been ages since I did some uni lecturing. Do you actually know what this one is supposed to be about?”

“Of course I do,” the Doctor said. “Nardole?”

Nardole shrugged.

“I haven’t the faintest idea,” the Doctor said.

River laughed. “I have no idea how you’re still employed. Why do they pay you?”

“They’re supposed to pay me?”

As they started towards the lecture hall, River leaned over to Bill. “Been married for centuries and sometimes I _still_ can’t tell if he’s joking.”

 

* * *

 

Bill smiled as she watched the Doctor hook up his electric guitar. The only bar on campus was a popular haunt for him, when he wasn’t in his office or the Vault. He strummed a few practice chords, then adjusted the volume and feedback with the sonic.

River was at the bar, talking animatedly to some of the students that had followed her from her latest lecture. A few of them were there to continue debates prompted by the lecture, but most of them were there for the round of drinks she had promised to buy to celebrate the end of the week.

Even hiding behind his sunglasses, Bill could see the Doctor cast a glance towards his wife as he started to play. Maybe he was checking that she would be listening to him. Maybe he just liked looking at her.

Bill remembered his enthusiasm earlier in the day as he introduced River to the lecture hall. He’d bounded to take a front row seat like an excited schoolboy, and he’d never taken his eyes off her for the entire hour. He’d even started a round of applause when she had finished speaking.

Bill sipped at her drink, and River sat down on the chair opposite her. “Are you saving these seats?”

“Nah,” Bill shook her head. “None of my friends are free tonight. I just came to watch him play.”

River looked over her shoulder at the live entertainment. “He’s still got it.”

The two sat and watched for a minute.

“He makes a big fuss about staying on Earth,” River said eventually, “and I know he’d love to travel again. But you know what? I think he likes it here.”

The Doctor finished a complicated tune with a flourish, and winked at River. She laughed, and blew a kiss back. Bill slurped her drink.

“They’re so cute together,” she’d said to Nardole in the hall, earlier.

“Try putting up with their flirting for 24 years,” he’d said back.

The Doctor started strumming a new song, one that he’d played many times before at the bar. It was calming. Almost romantic.

“I wish I had what you two have,” Bill said. “One day, I mean.”

River turned back to her. “You will.”

“I can hope.”

“I _know_ you will. How could you not? A gorgeous, clever girl like you.” River spoke gently, like… well, almost like a mother. Almost like one of those wise, advice-giving mothers from TV. Almost like the mother Bill spoke to when no one else was about.

“I thought I had found someone, recently.” Bill awkwardly played with her straw, wondering if she should just drop the subject. “But… she left. And I didn’t follow, even though I wanted to. None of the other dates I’ve gone on have really worked out, and I guess… I just hope I didn’t miss my chance.”

“It’s a long, long time since I was young and love-struck, Bill, but trust me, I was. And do you want my advice? Don’t worry about missing one chance when there are many, many more coming your way. Look after yourself. If your dates don’t work out, don’t stress over it. And if they leave… well, nine times out of ten they’re not worth the effort of chasing after.”

“And the one out of ten?”

River laughed. “If they’re really worth it, then they might come back one day. But you have to keep living for you, and you have to have a little hope.”

“Yeah. I will. Thanks, River.”

“You’re most welcome.”

Bill had finished her drink, and the Doctor was almost finished his song. “Are you going to be here next week?”

“I don’t think so. I have friends and family that I have to get back to.”

“Do you know when you’ll visit again?”

“Not exactly, but it might be soon. I’ve found, rather to my horror, that I’ve missed giving university lectures.”

After a few more jokes and a hug, Bill left the bar and started towards home. Electric guitar music echoed in her head.

If there was anyone who could substitute for the Doctor, it was Professor River Song. Plus, she hadn’t set any homework, which made her the superior tutor in Bill’s eyes.


End file.
